


La Douleur Exquise

by Darker_Side



Series: Drabbles and Short Prompts [3]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Depressed Lucifer, F/F, Masturbation, Other, She looked just like her, Voyeurism, brief f/f, re-post
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:26:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24915331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darker_Side/pseuds/Darker_Side
Summary: She wasn’t Chloe, but she looked like her.
Relationships: Mazikeen/Leslie Shay
Series: Drabbles and Short Prompts [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1802974
Comments: 15
Kudos: 14





	La Douleur Exquise

**Author's Note:**

  * For [more_more](https://archiveofourown.org/users/more_more/gifts).



> So, my friend More_More admitted a dirty little secret after she had watched Chicago Fire. She wanted to see Lucifer and Leslie Shay (portrayed by the lovely Lauren German) together in some steamy smut. I've never watched the show, but I was made aware that Shay is _very gay_ and I didn't want to mess with that, since I'm not in that fandom. So, what was I to do? A little bit of Voyeur Lucifer with Maze doing her demon thing with a Chloe lookalike. 
> 
> What could be more heartbreaking?

She looked just like her, all straw-colored hair and pale-honey skin. Even from a distance, her eyes weren’t quite right, but he had a vivid enough imagination for it not to matter. She wore the same tired expression of someone putting their all into a job, but she walked with a different stride. She walked like Chloe did when she ran away from Lucifer at the police ushered them around and away from Pierce’s body. There was pain in each step, a hope to forget with every sip of her drink.

Lucifer didn’t know what made the woman walk like that, but it angered him because it made the face so close to Chloe’s hard when it should be soft. He couldn’t bring himself to approach her. Couldn’t force his legs to move towards something that was like a projection of what he wanted most.

Maze wasn’t like him. She had no reason to be nervous, and perhaps she couldn’t see the similarities, maybe that was just Lucifer’s wounded heart. Maze strolled over to the woman, drinks for both of them, and the woman smiled a charming thing before taking it. He watched from his seat at the piano as the women talked, laughed, and whispered into each other’s ears.

A flare of jealousy heated his blood, his skin.

_She looked just like her._

It was through pure muscle memory and centuries of practice that he managed to keep playing, surrounded by club-goers, drunk and not. His mind was elsewhere, simply across the room, watching his closest friend and former subject flirt and charm a woman with Chloe’s shape, with her hair, eyes blue but not holding the same captivating depth.

She wasn’t touched by his Father, and it angered him that that detail could ruin the illusion. That a small touch of Heaven was what made Chloe the forbidden fruit he couldn’t reach. The fruit he’d die trying to taste.

She wasn’t Chloe, but she looked like her.

He watched Maze whisper against the woman’s temple, brushing some of that blonde hair behind her ear, exposing cheekbones that could be Chloe’s with enough liquor or tears blurring his vision. He watched the lookalike smile, biting her plush bottom lip with a grin, white teeth digging into natural blush-pink. They polished-off their drinks, leaving empty glasses and appraising glances in their wake as Maze entangled her fingers into the other’s.

Lucifer finished the song, the fifth time he had played an instrumental _Hallelujah_ that week. The music was befitting of his mood; it soothed him, knowing someone else felt pain like he did. _The Unforgiven,_ all three parts, was another favorite to sympathize with his melancholy. He was on his feet by the time he struck the last note, and he walked over to the bar with cautious purpose. The women had disappeared into a small corridor by the bar, one of Maze’s favorite spots for some quick action, when the thumping of the bass was the rhythm she wanted to follow. When she wanted something quick and dirty.

He was already getting hard at the thought. He should feel ashamed by that, the thought of Maze with someone looking like Chloe, but he couldn’t bring his broken heart to care enough. He was desperate for just a glimpse of what Chloe could look like enraptured. He just wanted something he could see and hear when he closed his eyes, when he lay awake for hours and hours holding back tears at the sight of her afraid of him. He needed another expression to imagine to feel less like a monster, more like something she could want touching her, kissing her, worshiping her.

He could hear the noises before he was able to see them, celestial hearing and all. Somehow, he managed to hide his large frame out of sight of both women, even Maze, while still having a clear view of them. Maze had the woman pushed up against the wall, hands held over her head by the wrists. Maze was kissing down the woman’s neck, making her way down to nipples that were hard and straining against the thin fabric of her satin tank-top, braless and proud. Lucifer licked his lips; he knew what Chloe’s breasts looked like, thanks to her 19 year-old self’s acting choice, and his cock instantly filled at the thought of Chloe’s nipples, hard and wet from a pool.

The other woman moaned, and the voice wasn’t right, but it wasn’t wrong, and Lucifer could use that for himself. He could change it the way he needed to, he was sure. He watched as Maze rubbed her face all over the woman’s chest, inhaling unabashedly and licking at the exposed skin, leaving wet marks in satin. The woman shivered, hands clenching above her head in Maze’s grasp. The demon made quick work of the button on the front of the woman’s skin-tight jeans, so low on her hips Lucifer wondered if she was wearing underwear beneath them.

Rich, dark skin sank beneath the denim, and Lucifer held back a groan as the other woman’s mouth fell open, eyes rolling back in her head as Maze used her deft fingers to pleasure her. He wished he could see what the demon’s fingers were doing. He wished he could see them glistening as they pumped in and out of her heat, he wished he could see them circle the woman’s clit, glide between silken lips like his cock would. Maze kissed her way back up to the woman’s mouth, swallowing her gasps and cries as she took her apart with her hand. He could see Maze smirking against pink lips, biting plush skin, moaning at the taste of her mouth, the feel of her sex clenching around her digits.

The woman’s hips started to move, seeking friction against Maze’s hand as she neared her climax. Lucifer knew when women were close, he knew all the tell-tale signs of climax, and he wondered if Chloe got quiet right before, or if she screamed and cried out. Would she cry out his name? Would she stare into his eyes with a silent scream in her throat?

The woman was cursing, and Maze had no mercy on her. He could see the muscles and tendons in Maze’s forearm work as she rubbed the heel of her palm against the woman’s clit as her fingers (hopefully three) pumped in and out aggressively. Lucifer wondered if Chloe liked it rough, or if she wanted it slow and deep, feeling every inch of his cock slide into her and drag back out. Maze released the woman’s hands and dug her fingers into blonde hair, tugging the woman’s head back against the wall. She was grinding against Maze’s hand, slender hips rolling and it made Lucifer’s cock twitch in his slacks.

Maze whispered something to her, biting against the curve of her jaw, but Lucifer didn’t hear it. He was too concerned with watching the way the lookalike arched her back, the way her whole body tensed before convulsing in waves and waves of muscle spasms. Maze only increased the speed of her hand, driving the woman wild, sending her body into overdrive, and Lucifer had to squeeze his cock to keep himself from cumming in his pants like a juvenile. The woman left her eyes open, those blues turning brighter and wetter, somehow looking like she saw beyond her surroundings. An out-of-body experience. He wasn’t surprised. He knew what Maze could do; he knew no one would stand a chance against her in any sexual endeavor. Except himself.

The woman gasped for breath, eye finally falling closed as a blissful smile spread over her slightly parted lips. Maze withdrew her hand from the woman’s pants, bringing deliciously shiny fingers up and into the woman’s awaiting mouth. The woman moaned around her own taste, sucking the digits before releasing them to lick into Maze’s mouth. He watched them kiss for a few more minutes, relishing in the more relaxed posture of the other woman, at how sated she looked even while button her pants. He retreated back to the bar when the women switched positions, Maze’s back against the wall as the other woman appreciated the ample breasts in front of her, the supple leather doing wonders to accentuate every curve of the demon’s body.

Lucifer managed to finish a drink before the women emerged from their little secluded corner, none the wiser of their audience occupying the seat the other woman had been in. He thought he had been unseen, a dark figure in the shadows, watching debauchery as if he owned it. The women were holding hands, and they didn’t appear to be finished with each other, if the death-grip and knowing smiles had anything to say about it. Lucifer made eye-contact with Maze quickly, and the demon looked proud of her conquest, and Lucifer held his breath as the woman walked past him, hoping to not taint his memory of Chloe’s sent, the smell of her perfume, the smell of her shampoo that she didn’t know he could detect. Lucifer nodded his head, holding up his empty glass as if to show why he couldn’t toast her in celebration.

Maze looked down, almost guiltily as she followed behind the woman, letting her hand grasp his shoulder for a second, a reassuring squeeze, before the pair continued towards the elevators, to Maze’s floor in the large building. The touch was anything but comforting. She knew he had watched. She knew why he had watched, and she felt _sorry_ for it. He couldn’t fault her; he felt like a sorry piece of shit for doing it, too. He was desperate, deranged, and heartbroken. He would never admit any of that out loud, not even to Linda, but the demon knew her former master well, she knew what was going on in his head, and she understood.

The liquor in his newly filled cup tasted bitter as he watched the women disappear into the elevator, the woman who looked like Chloe moving to wrap her arms around Maze’s neck. They vanished like that; much like Chloe had. There one second, gone the next, and that made a knot form in his stomach.

He couldn’t even have someone who looked like her. He couldn’t even make himself, Lucifer, the Lightbringer, the _Devil_ , walk up to a woman who shared her shape, her shadow. His body wanted it, but his soul couldn’t betray that overwhelming need for just _her._ Just Chloe. No imposter or doppelganger could quench the thirst. No liquor could, either, as he had become unfortunately aware in the weeks since she’d left.

0-0-0-0-0-0

Maze and the lookalike never made it back down to the club. He waited a few hours, but they never showed, and it was hard to feel happy for Maze. For her to have someone to share the night with, but the small part of him that didn’t belong to Chloe was able to smile for the demon. So he peeled himself away from the bar, not having to fight any suitors off because people tended to avoid him when he looked the way he did: strung-out, angry, restless, and more intimidating than usual.

When he made it back up to the penthouse, he went straight for the en suite. He stripped himself of the clothes he had been wearing for two days, he thought, he wasn’t sleeping much and the days seemed endless. More like one long, torturous day he was forced to experience, like an insufferable hell-loop that he would never fall out of. He turned the shower on as hot as it would go, no fear of burning himself because he was invulnerable. Depressingly invulnerable. He never imagined he would ever miss the anxiety or the _what if_ with the Detective around. Never thought he’d get used to feeling mortality and be okay with it.

He stepped into the hot water, steam billowing around him like smoke and clouds, like a combination of his two worlds. With his hair matted to his head, he let the water run over his face, over his lips. It slid down his body, warming touch-starved skin, and the fact that hot water could make him gasp said it all. Not having her around was just as bad as not having touch. Lucifer was a carnal creature; he needed the contact, needed the worship. He could have anyone downstairs, he knew that, but it would pale in comparison to what he truly wanted. What he needed.

His gripped his shoulders, arms crossing over his chest, and he let them slide down his body, feeling the ridges and hard lines of a form built for ruin. Built for chaos and destruction. He was hard, and he didn’t need a hand on his cock to tell him that. His erection bobbed in the suffocating air of the shower as his hands lowered to his hips, down his thighs. So close to where he wanted to feel anything. With his eyes closed, his imagination could take flight; could pull him out of a world where the only light he saw had walked away. It could take him to a realm where she was lying beneath him, open and pliant, taking everything from him that he could give her.

He wrapped his hand around his aching cock with images of blonde hair, sea-foam eyes, and pouty lips swimming in his vision. He squeezed the base when he used the lookalike’s noises as a muse for what Chloe could sound like. He groaned, loudly, using his other hand to cup his balls and pull at the already taught skin. He was embarrassingly close, but the Detective had always made him feel inexperienced and bashful. He wanted to be perfect for her, but he knew that a monster could never be anything but flawed and repulsive.

He imagined sliding his body over hers, covering her from the horrors of this world and the next, encasing her in a shield of feathers and fire as he kissed his way down her body, slowly, savoring it. He imagined her taste to be exquisite; an ambrosia of sun-sweet fruit and honey. He thought about the way the flavor would stay on his tongue, the way he could bring it up to her and let her taste her divine taste from his mouth. Drink her purity from a damaged well.

His cock leaked when he imagined sliding inside of her. He could almost feel it in the grip of his palm: a tight, wet, slippery squeeze, almost too much. Perfection. Lucifer let out a shuddering breath, water spraying from his lips before he sunk his teeth into the bottom one. He could feel his hips begin to rut without instruction. His balls were tightening in his hand, pulling close to his body as they readied to empty into nothing. He tightened his fist harder, began stroking long, deep strokes, twisting his wrist, wringing himself false pleasure.

He thought of her lithe body writing beneath his own, her back arching enticingly, her lips opening and forming an O. He’d tug on her hair, make sure to keep her face in his line of sight. He wanted to see everything, see every feature change into rapture as he took her apart. It was hearing the imaginary Chloe gasp his name that sent him over. His body hunched over, and he pulled his hand away from his balls to brace himself on the shower wall. He came hard, long, but it was unsatisfying. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t with her, and any relief he got from it washed down the wall and the drain like the waste of his release did. He looked at his hand like it offended him as he turned the water off. It was just a poor substitute, but he had no way of getting the real thing.

He’d never be given the opportunity for the real thing.

She wasn’t Chloe, the woman Maze charmed, but she looked like her. It wasn’t Chloe, the identical image of what she was in his head, but it was all a monster was afforded: disappointing imitations and remembered details to haunt him.


End file.
